Wild and Wanton (4 page)

‘Mmmmm,' Luisa Delmar said.

A vibrant note of excitement entered Nick Farraday's voice. ‘Can't you feel that . . . allure? It's there, I tell you!'

‘I see the possibility. Don't rush me; you know I like to take my time. I'm still disturbed by what you're seeing. I'm not convinced that you aren't looking at the girl on a more personal level.'

‘Rubbish! You're creating difficulties where none exist.'

‘Am I, Nick?' Looking at Lindsay, Luisa Delmar said, ‘You must think us very rude, talking over your head as we are. Sit down, here on the edge of my bed. That's better,' she added as Lindsay obeyed. ‘Now we're cozier. As you see, I'm having my own private party.' She waved a beringed hand at the nightstand, which contained food and champagne. ‘A glass of champagne for Lindsay and something for her to eat,' she instructed Nick Farraday, ‘and I will try to explain. But before I begin, I must ask two things of you, Lindsay. One, even though I don't intend to tell you much at this stage, things that may mean little to you would mean more to our competitors, and months of
planning,
not to mention the expense involved, would come to nothing. So, anything you hear must remain behind sealed lips. Have I your promise?'

‘Yes, Madame.'

‘Good. The second thing I ask—no, command—is your absolute honesty. Have I got that, too?'

‘That's easily granted. One of my failings is that I'm often too honest.'

‘Yes, that
can
be a failing,' the old lady observed wryly.

‘Champagne and something to nibble at,' Nick Farraday said, pressing a glass and a plate into Lindsay's hands.

Lindsay didn't want anything to eat, and she was intoxicated enough by events, but Luisa Delmar had decreed that she must have these things, and she wasn't brave enough to refuse. She didn't think anyone, including Nick Farraday, would dare to disobey this fascinating lady. She took a sip from her glass and the interrogation began.

At first Luisa Delmar followed the usual line of questioning an applicant for any kind of job could expect. Where did she live? What were her interests? Was she prepared to travel? Lindsay answered like someone in a trance, refusing to believe this was happening to her, giving Luisa Delmar the blind obedience the elderly woman had come to expect as her right.

‘Are
you committed to anyone, child? By that I mean, do you have a lover?' Perceiving the blush touching Lindsay's cheeks, she said, ‘I should explain that I use the word lover the way it was meant in my day. So, do you have a manfriend?'

‘No.'

‘How old are you?'

‘Twenty-two.'

All Lindsay's other replies had been favorably received, but this one was met with a frown. ‘It's no good!' She tossed an angry look beyond Lindsay's head to Nick Farraday. ‘In my day, yes! Today, seventeen would be suspect, but you know we agreed on nineteen, Nick, and a naive nineteen-year-old at that.'

‘
You
said; I didn't agree,' Nick replied. ‘A giddy teenager would be equally impossible. We need someone who has reached the age of poise and inner tranquility. Admittedly, I thought she was younger. I thought she was a little girl playing at being a woman.' Then Nick Farraday scowled at Lindsay, as if it were her fault that her parents hadn't waited another three years before having her! The bubble of humor rising in her made her wonder if she ought to apologize for her parents' lack of patience.

‘It doesn't make any difference,' Nick Farraday announced abruptly. ‘I tell you, she
is
.'

‘Don't be ridiculous!' Luisa Delmar chided.
A
gleam of wickedness entered her eyes as she said, ‘I might be a doddering old woman who forgets day-to-day happenings, but there are things I can instantly recall. I know that while it is possible for you to know that she
isn't,
you can't claim to know the opposite.'

‘You're not a doddering old woman, you're a wicked old woman, and this business of forgetting things is all a pretense to get attention. I tell you that I
do
know. A man can tell these things.'

‘Stuff and nonsense! A woman needs only a minimal amount of intelligence to hoodwink a man at any time, and particularly about that. Don't you agree, Lindsay?'

‘I don't know,' Lindsay said, trembling in her elegant sandals at daring to contest this imperious lady, and feeling her stomach sink as apprehension at what she could be agreeing to quivered through her.

‘Immaterial,' Luisa Delmar snapped. ‘I'm sorry to have to put you through this, Lindsay, but it can't be helped. Only a direct question will resolve this. Are you a virgin?'

Embarrassment flooded Lindsay's cheeks. It wouldn't have been as bad if Nick Farraday's glance hadn't been playing over her face in unbridled amusement. She wriggled in discomfort, wishing she'd never set eyes on that outrageously handsome, arrogant, smirking countenance. If only the power of thought were such that it was possible for her
to
transport herself a million miles away.

‘Do you want me to repeat the question?' Luisa Delmar inquired, uncaring of the turmoil she was causing. ‘No, Madame,' Lindsay whispered.

‘No, you are not a virgin?'

‘No, I don't want you to repeat the question.'

‘So you are a virgin?'

‘Yes, Madame.'

‘Why not say so in the first place? Why make such a song and dance about it? As for you, Nick, you can wipe that silly grin off your face, because it doesn't make any difference. I'm not saying that I don't believe the girl, because I do. She's painfully honest.'

‘Then
what
?'

‘Do I have to remind you? Woman awakening . . . a young girl in a white dress with the dawning awareness of her own power, the potency of her own appeal, shy and hesitant, hovering on the brink. Not racing toward it at a breakneck pace! Get out of here and take her with you. You're stupid. I have no more patience left.'

‘Now, Luisa, the doctor said you mustn't get too excited.'

‘How can I help it when the one person I've put my trust in to make the load lighter in my few remaining years turns out to be an imbecile?'

‘Luisa,' he reproved gently.

She
gave a sulky sniff. ‘Go!' she said.

Lindsay had already shuffled off the bed and was on her feet, ready for flight.

‘You may come again, child,' Luisa Delmar informed her in the manner of royalty granting an audience. ‘In spite of everything, I find you quite charming. I am not so petty-minded that I would hold your natural feminine inclinations against you. I well remember being twenty-two myself. Sometimes the distant past is more vivid to me than the events of yesterday. You're not suitable for what we have in mind, but at another time I know I could enjoy your company. So you may come again.'

‘Thank you, Madame,' Lindsay said awkwardly, hoping she would be allowed to leave quickly, yet knowing from the set of Nick Farraday's jaw that she still had a few more uncomfortable moments to suffer through.

‘Lindsay is absolutely right for what we want. You'll come round to admitting it.'

‘I won't,' said Luisa.

‘You will, because you're a wise woman and you won't spite yourself to prove me wrong. Lindsay will come again. You two can look forward to seeing much, much more of one another. So much that you'll possibly end up being screamingly bored with each other, because I'm relying on your help to guide and groom her.'

Lindsay had almost begun to feel sorry for
Nick
Farraday, on the receiving end of his grandmother's sharp tongue as he was. But the situation was redressed as he issued the softly spoken rebuke. If Luisa Delmar were the queen of wisdom, then Nick Farraday was the prince of guile. The admonition was wrapped in a compliment. Because you're a wise woman . . . And then he'd trotted out a plea for assistance. I'm relying on your help to guide and groom Lindsay . . .

What woman could resist such adept handling? Even Luisa Delmar wasn't impervious to it, as shown by the softening of her expression.

Nick Farraday went on to demonstrate the full capacity of his talent for subtlety and shrewdness by taking immediate advantage of the ground he had gained to deliver his parting shot. ‘Just one more thing—a misconception to clear up. You have an excellent memory for both past and present events. You know that you have been intolerably rude to Lindsay both in your manner and the directness of your questions, and in your cunning you're trying to gain her sympathy. Don't do it again. Now we will go. Come!'

Luisa Delmar's throaty chuckle told Lindsay that this verbal sparring was a regular happening, one that she thoroughly enjoyed.

As she scrambled after Nick Farraday, Lindsay's most fervent wish was to avoid having to go back to the party. ‘I would like to
go
home,' she said.

‘Precisely where I'm taking you,' she was informed.

‘That's not necessary. I came in a cab, and I see no reason why I shouldn't go home the same way.'

‘Reason? What do women know of reason? I have enough with one impossible woman to deal with, so I'll thank you not to make life more difficult than it already is. I'm taking you home, so no more arguments, please.'

‘Don't I have any say in the matter?'

‘No.'

‘I think you are the most arrogant, overbearing—'

‘Enough! You're not even original I've heard it all before.'

He snapped his fingers, issued a curt command, and in the time it took for Lindsay's coat to be located and for them to get downstairs, a silver limousine had arrived at the entrance, the chauffeur hovering by an open door.

‘I'll drive myself, thank you, Baxter,' Nick Farraday said, ushering Lindsay into the subdued luxury of the automobile before walking round the front to get in and sit beside her.

He moved into the stream of traffic without asking her where she lived. She recalled that his grandmother had asked her during that embarrassing catechism. Lindsay saw that he
was
heading in the right direction, and she knew that he had committed that piece of information to memory upon hearing it back at the penthouse. Because the Knightsbridge traffic was fierce and his attention didn't seem to be on his driving, she prayed that they wouldn't have an accident. She relaxed only when she realized that the man and machine were practically extensions of each other. He was so expert that a quarter of his attention was all that was required for him to come up to the average motorist's best.

‘Good night, Mr. Farraday. Thank you for the lift,' she said punctiliously as he pulled up at the curb.

She sprang out with the agility of a kitten, but he was faster, and he joined her almost as soon as her feet touched the sidewalk. She tried the ‘thank you' routine again at the door of the apartment block, but with little hope of success, so she wasn't surprised when he accompanied her right to her door. It had become obvious that he was a keen devotee of a health club, or whatever he did to keep fit, because her apartment was seven floors up in a building not served by an elevator, and his breathing hadn't even quickened during their ascent.

When he held out his arm she knew it was for her key and not to shake her hand goodnight. She surrendered the key, sighing with helpless frustration. But when he entered
her
apartment with her, she decided that he had pressed his privilege far enough.

‘Now, look here, Mr. Farraday—'

‘I've told you before to call me Nick,' he said, looking round with interest.

Even to her own eyes the apartment suddenly seemed very small and cramped. After his spacious, twenty-four hour camera scanned luxury penthouse, she had to wonder what he thought of these modest living quarters. The additional bits and pieces she'd bought the pièce de resistance her big overstuffed armchair—to supplement the spartan furnishings which had come with the apartment didn't seem to compensate for the place's deficiencies when viewed from his perspective.

Nothing of his thoughts showed on his face, although his words proved most revealing. ‘Mmmm, this needs some thinking out.'

‘What does?'

‘It will do for the moment, but you won't be able to stay here once things get moving.'

‘I like it here. I'm staying put.'

‘I can see you've made the best of things . . .'

‘Thank you.'

‘. . . but, other major considerations aside, I don't propose to climb Mount Blanc every time I come to see you.'

‘This is a one-off, Mr. Farraday. You won't have cause to see me again.' She paused. ‘What major considerations?' she asked
curiously.

‘You'll be a hot property. As such, you'll require some form of protection. But you don't have to worry your head about that now.'

‘I won't have to worry my head about that ever! I'm not interested in any deal you might propose.'

She might not have spoken for all the notice he took. ‘You could move into my place. There's room enough, that's for sure, and with Luisa there, no one in his right mind could deny the fact that you would be adequately chaperoned. That might sound archaic, but it's all part of the image.'

‘Oh, of course!' Lindsay said with heavy sarcasm. ‘And Madame Delmar will welcome me with open arms.'

‘You may have a point. Luisa was rather set against the idea of using you. She can be very stubborn when she sets her mind to it.'

Like someone else I've been unfortunate enough to come to know, thought Lindsay, fuming silently.

‘I'm not saying she would do anything to show her resentment at being overruled, only that perhaps in the circumstances you'd be more comfortable in an apartment of your own.'

She stared at him in wide-eyed amazement. ‘I
have
an apartment. This one. Will you stop trying to organize my life!'